The ocean burned.
Not with fire—but with light.
Pillars of radiant flame rose from the waves, parting the sea like it feared what had awakened beneath. The air shimmered with raw Divin force, so thick it distorted vision, memory, and even thought.
From the observation deck of The Valkyris, we could see the golden construct as it climbed onto the coast.
Seraph Null.
A divine weapon, forged in the era before the Crown. A being so old that even the gods had buried its name.
Now, it stood again—wings of living light stretched skyward, a halo of energy orbiting its head like a sun bound in chains.
And the Crownless stood beneath it, hands raised in prayer.
Tactical Landing
"We have one shot at this," Cira said, tightening the last strap on her harness. "Once we're in that field, all conventional comms are dead. Mana will twist. Tech will stutter. We're flying blind."
"Just like old times," Kieran muttered.
Elara pulled her gauntlets on with a quiet click. "No killing unless necessary. These aren't cultists or monsters. They're people with conviction."
"They're still about to use a divine nuke," I said. "We stop them first. Understand them second."
We launched at first light. A stealth shuttle dropped us just beyond the glowing ridge that circled Seraph Null's footprint.
The moment we passed through the field, the world changed.
The Divine Field
The air vibrated with a soundless hum. Time slowed, then sped up, then snapped back into place. The ground beneath our feet pulsed like a heartbeat—alive, aware, watching.
A strange pressure formed in my chest, as if the Crown was trying to separate from me.
Not in fear.
In recognition.
"This thing was built to counter gods," I whispered. "And it sees me as one."
"Then let's not give it a reason to wake up mad," Elara muttered.
Ahead of us, the Crownless had built a temporary outpost around the construct's feet—makeshift shrines, glyph towers, and projection halls showing ancient prophecies recovered from forbidden archives.
And standing at the center of it all…
Elandra Vael.
Meeting Under Firelight
She turned as we approached, her silver-lined cloak flowing with the motion. Dozens of Crownless soldiers raised weapons—but Elandra raised her hand.
"No need for blood," she said, eyes never leaving mine. "Not when we've both come for answers."
"You activated a godkiller," I replied. "That's not just a statement. That's war."
"Not if it ends the war," she said.
I looked up at Seraph Null again—at the carved runes along its chestplate, at the glowing star in its core.
"What are you planning?"
She gestured to a projector. "Let me show you."
The Machine's Purpose
The images were rough—glimpses of ancient texts, corrupted fragments of divine memory, and notes scrawled by long-dead scholars.
Seraph Null had been created by a splinter faction of the gods themselves—those who feared what their kin were becoming. It was not just a weapon.
It was a balance mechanism.
A failsafe.
Capable of severing divine links and unraveling celestial structures.
Its core could erase even memory of a god.
"We believe this was made to destroy the Chained God," Elandra explained. "Before they chose to imprison him instead."
"And now you want to finish the job," I said.
She nodded.
"But not just him. All of them."
The Ethical Divide
"Do you know what happens when you kill a god?" I asked.
"Do you?" she countered.
"Yes," I said. "You don't just end a life. You rip apart the system that life supported. Ecosystems. Afterlives. Foundations of reality."
Elandra stepped forward. "That's why it must be all or nothing. Not just one. Not just the Harbinger. Not just your gods. All of them. Or they'll come back stronger."
"You'll kill thousands," Elara said. "Millions if the after-realms collapse."
"We'll set them free," Elandra said. "They've been living inside cages they couldn't see."
"You think Seraph Null can free them?" Cira asked. "It doesn't know the difference between mercy and annihilation."
"Then we teach it," Elandra said simply.
The Impossible Choice
She turned back to me.
"Join us," she said. "You're the only one Seraph Null doesn't reject. Your presence calms it. Controls it."
"You want me to pilot it."
"I want you to decide whether we live under gods—or without them."
"And what happens to the Crown?" I asked.
She hesitated.
"You'd have to give it up."
Silence fell over the group.
Even the wind stopped.
I looked at my friends—Elara's fierce loyalty, Kieran's quiet trust, Cira's analytical edge.
Then I looked at my own hand.
At the mark that had shaped my second life.
"I need time," I said.
Elandra nodded.
"You have until nightfall. Then we march."
Internal Conflict
Back in our temporary quarters, Elara slammed the door shut.
"You're not actually considering it, are you?"
"I'm considering everything," I said. "I have to."
"It's suicide, Sylas. Not just for you. For everyone. You kill the gods, the seals collapse. The Harbinger wins."
"I'm not saying yes," I said, voice low. "But if she's right… if the system can't be fixed…"
"You fix it anyway!" Elara shouted. "That's what you do!"
Cira interrupted, her voice calm but urgent. "It's not just a moral choice. I scanned the construct's core. It's tied to the planetary aether grid. If it activates fully, it could wipe out all mana."
Kieran whistled low. "And that includes the Crown."
We stared at each other.
No good options.
No guarantees.
Just conviction.
The Harbinger Arrives
Just before sunset, the sky darkened—not from clouds, but from shadows.
The Harbinger appeared at the edge of the valley, wreathed in black starlight. He walked with purpose, alone.
Elandra's guards raised weapons.
He ignored them.
He looked straight at me.
"This is your last fork in the path," he said. "Choose wisely."
"You're here to stop her?" I asked.
"No," he said. "I'm here to let you fall. And to catch what rises from your ruin."
Then he vanished.
And the sun dipped below the sea.
The Activation Begins
Seraph Null stirred.
Its chestplate opened, revealing a swirling vortex of compressed time and energy.
Elandra raised her hand.
"Sylas. Decide."
I looked down at the Crown.
Then at the machine.
Then at the world.